This book is one of the readings at North Island Distance Education School in British Columbia, Canada, for English First Peoples 12. It reads like a young adult novel, which is not surprising since David A. Robertson won his accolades for children’s writing and graphic novels—twice he won the Governor General’s Literary Award, also the TD Canadian Children’s Literature Award, and the Writer’s Union of Canada Freedom to Read award. Published in 2022, this is his first adult novel.
I found his writing detailed, repetitive, and slow-paced (he did this, she did that). He tells more than he shows, and it lacks the edgy, lyrical style I’ve come to appreciate in books by other Indigenous authors like Cherie Dimaline, Eden Robinson, Louise Erdrich, and Drew Hayden Taylor, though it is honest and does reveal his feelings and experiences.
Forty-year-old Matthew feels empty and estranged from his wife and sixteen-year-old daughter. He suffers with anxiety and is weaning himself off a longtime Xanax addiction. To fill the void, he sends some flirty texts to a co-worker—that’s it, no sex, just flirty texts. His daughter Holly (birth name Hallelujah) who suffers with anxiety and teenage angst, discovers his texts and calls him on it.
“And if you want me to stop drinking this much, then I’ll make you a deal: how abut you stop texting some bitch that isn’t my mother!”
The story is divided into two parts. Part One details the problems plaguing this Winnipeg inner city family of Cree-Scottish heritage and goes on a little too long for this reader. It takes a family tragedy to shock them into action. Matthew realizes he must go back to the land where his father grew up on the old family trapline, and Holly realizes she must come along.
Robertson is a member of Norway House Cree Nation, and he drew inspiration from his own life for this novel. It reads like a fictionalized account of his memoir, Black Water, where he writes about a trip to Norway House to deal with his own mental health issues, specifically anxiety. Robertson went accompanied by his Cree father, who like Charlie McIvor in the story, is a minister. In The Theory of Crows, Robertson changes the focus to reflect estranged relationships within his own family, especially his eldest daughter.
Part Two (Chapter 17) ramps up into a survival story and that’s where the action begins. The writing style becomes more poetic too.
“They flew through the clearing (the crows) like shards of night fallen to earth, then landed on trees.”
I’d personally liked to have seen the first half condensed and the second half expanded. Most of us understand the estrangement between fathers and teenaged daughters but wilderness camping is more elusive. Norway House lies five hundred miles north of Winnipeg and was a Hudson’s Bay Company depot in the 19th Century. Matthew and Holly, both who’ve been raised in Winnipeg and have few outdoor skills, aren’t prepared or equipped to deal, which ups the stakes. Fortunately, Holly is a water-polo champion, something that saves these inexperienced city folks, when Matthew takes a canoe out on the river and makes a wrong turn. Mosquitoes and black flies are mentioned but I had to imagine what it was really like from my own experiences in Northern Ontario.
The story is split between their points-of-view. Unable to speak to his daughter, but desperate to let her know how much he cares, Matthew writes a series of letters to Holly which reveal his backstory and are woven throughout the text.
Several themes reverberate through the story: identity and belonging; the legacy of residential schools; the impact of Christianity; self harm; intergenerational trauma; Indigenous girls at risk; blood memory; and especially connection to the land.
The book has a wonderful cover and title: The Theory of Crows, but it’s not until the very end that we’re given a glimpse into that theory.
“Your moshom, he told me about this. He told me that you remembered the land, even if you’d never been on the land before. Your grandfather used to say that the land could remember you. It works the same way with crows, Hallelujah. They remembered him, they would remember me, and they remember you. They pass these things down through the generations.”
His graphic novels are intriguing
